Run with me
by Angevelinka
Summary: After the unexplained biological war, Gaara and Naruto decide to run away from the orphanage and survive on their own. It isn't long before they learn that freedom's price is much higher than they have expected. AU, GaaNaru, NaruGaa, future ShikaTema
1. I

_AN: Yet another result of me and Panur rping. This time it's a little sappy adolescence romance of two fugitives, a bit oversweetened for the story reasons. Enjoy!^^_

Clap, clap, clap. Slick, worn out boots hitting the surface of wet mud. Ragged, torn out breath, cold against his lips, almost as cold as chilly droplets of water hitting his skin. And warm body put tightly against his, hidden from world under his old jacket. The blond's heart was beating so fast... Flutter, flutter, almost like a butterfly. They were only fourteen years old. Well, maybe he was fifteen. Or maybe not, he didn't know - he lost count on days that passed him and forgot his birthday somewhere along the way. All days were similar after all. No need for counting. He looked older for both of them. His growth spurt hit him fast and left him taller, more masculine with deep, damaged voice. Compared to him, the blond...

Clap, clap, clap. The rain was pouring down on them, but they didn't have umbrellas. His jacket was old, was already wet and soaked, but it was all they had. All they could ever have. He looked on the left, seeing phantoms of what used to be the street, now all covered in walls of rain and smelt the faint odor of warm soup. Tomatoes. Probably a little spicy. With bits of white cheese, like his uncle made him back then... back before... before this... He closed his eyes and pushed forward, swallowing his saliva. No. It was a luxury they couldn't get now. Maybe later. Someday. He hugged the body even tighter against him, searching for warm hand. He usually walked with him hand in hand, fearing to let go. It was too risky, too irresponsible - the blond boy could disappear. Could vanish... The blond boy with cerulean blue eyes. Naruto Uzumaki. They have left the orphanage together, under the pale moonlight, running blindly forward and never looking back. Together - and it stayed that way. Because he had nothing else in this life. Nothing, besides this warm hand. He, Gaara Sabaku. The victim of a disaster, war of adults who started it and died, the survivor in an orphanage where nobody cared and nobody listened. A person like many, many others. It's been three months already...

'We're almost there.' he whispered, peaking at the world from under his red, soaked bangs. 'Home.'

There was no answer from the smaller boy, except for tightening his warm hand around the other's icy cold on, hard enough to almost penetrate the barrier of numbness on it, almost enough to warm it. `Home` was a funny term to the younger of the two. As far as he had known, `home` was a place where a person that looked almost exactly like you beat you daily because you had killed his wife and ruined his life by being born—It was a place with slamming doors and too little air on his lungs, the perpetual suffocation of his own fear.

Different from now. He liked Gaara's idea of home better. There weren't really many doors to slam, even if they had wanted to, and there wasn't much on their stomachs, either, but he had air. And Gaara. They stopped at a street when a car passed, and Naruto took the chance to put an arm around the other's waist and press closer against his side, his other clutching the bag of groceries he had on his hands. Not much there, either. Long distance buses weren't cheap.

A cursory look around on the deserted streets, and then they dashed down the pouring skies and helped each other through a no trespassing fence that lead to house that seemed to be standing still solely to prove that miracles existed to be wasted on law-defying constructions. Gaara hadn't liked it at the beginning –the thing really looked like if a sneeze would send it tumbling down- but the old building was actually quite more sturdy than it had originally looked, at least from the inside. Sure, a chunk of it had missing…. And he still didn't know how the hell did a quarter of a house break down. Like if a giant had thought it a cake and chomped on that corner, but the basement was still hole, and more importantly, dry.

At this point of his life, `dry` was pretty much a keyword, along with `warm`, and `fed`. Not really as important as `Gaara`, but… a close second. Closer than he'd like on some days. "Hurry, you are soaking,' he pushed the gritty red wood doors up for the redhead to pass, giving him the grocery bag as he passed.

The redhead grabbed the food and went inside, closing the door. The light from an old light bulb blinked and hissed, producing a faint, shaky light - 'Jumpin Jack' as he liked to call it. It always amazed him how it could work in a building like this - probably the ruins had some other occupants in the past who weren't exactly legal there and who, much to their happiness now, got the electricity working. The bulb itself was amazing too - it looked like if it should have been changed years ago. He had never saw such old fashioned glass shape, and yet, it still worked. Miracles of life, wonders of the place.

Oh, and speaking of wonders - the heater in the building was working too. Even if it was smashed like if some giant foot has stepped on it. Maybe even the same one who gnawed on the side of their house...

Home, not house. Home.

He left the groceries on the chair, leaving it to the blond as he undressed. His old, worn out jacket was soaking wet, making the dusty floor dark and ugly. Not that it wasn't ugly when it was dry. It was just... uglier than before.

They hadn't got any rugs, but Gaara insisted on keeping the doormat inside, to make an impression of that they weren't that extremely poor and could afford something to cover the floor with. Even if it was a big, eye poking lie, it made him feel a little better. And besides, it was a nice spot to sit on when you wanted to dry near the heater.

Ah, no good. His shirt was soaked too. And his boots. And his pants. He really liked those pants. But it seemed that one more wettening and they were going to fall apart. Because patches didn't like being tested against the weather so much.

'Maybe a few weeks more...' he pleaded quietly in his head, sitting on the doormat. Clothes were expensive. They really could not afford new pants of good quality. And buying the price off summer pants was out of question. Winter was coming and they would not make him any good. And two pair of summer jeans were even more expensive than winter ones. The price was off only by thirty percent after all.

He sniffed, not paying attention to his hair he had no way he could dry unless he used his other clothes he was going to wear now, which meant either his short trousers, another pair of socks and cardigan over the dry t-shirt with almost invisible teddy printing. He wondered if not to wear his sweatshirt instead, since the cardigan he had was in this awful green and black color which screamed 'I'm an idiot or I'm an ever bigger idiot', but he decided against it. Warmth was the priority, even if he had to choose the cloth done by some talented nun with color-blindness. He was lucky to have it as the orphanage was not overflowing with clothes back in the days, and all his better ones were taken and sold to buy food for kids in the house. He hated those people for days for doing that to him.

'But one day' he mused 'One day I will be rich enough to buy myself a coat. Black. Or red. With cool adds like belt or a vest... new fashioned one. So it would be cut in half on the back. And the vest would be one armed...' He sniffed again. The warmth of the heater was getting to him and his nose. Hah. But he felt the nice smell of cooked potatoes. Where Naruto has learned to make food so well, he had no idea. But he couldn't help but love the fact he even could build a small oven from nothing, practically. If he were alone, he would have died from the illness eating raw grass and drinking from the puddles.

He clicked the last button on his cardigan. Naruto was sitting near the kitchen, looking like a little kid he was. 'We should be riding bicycles and popping bubblegum in girls faces now.' he thought bitterly, seeing the small frame 'Especially he should.' Because he was too old for that - he'd probably start dating some now. Though, for some reason he knew, that if anything, it was impossible. They were banished from this paradise on the days the hell broke. Their souls were too old.

'What'cha cooking?' he asked in a soft, quiet voice, not wanting to hear how mature it sounded already 'Smells good.' He liked pretending that they had choices when it came to eating. Old habits from good life died hard.

Once he made sure the redhead was down where he would be mostly dry, he moved down the side of the house and entered to the missing-cake part of it, the rest of the entrances having been firmly hammered shut. Why bother to shut a house that had a freaking side missing, he would never know, but the house seemed to have been there as an anomaly for them to find, and was he glad they had. He was tired of sleeping on benches in the park, and newspapers and skinny teenage bodies pressed together only got you so far as far as body heat was concerned, especially on nights where it rained like this.

He didn't know if it was the season or what, but he could swear that their body heat was dwindling, too. When this voyage had started, brown very likely from his own paranoia and the fact Gaara hadn't been able to let him on his own (probably the only reason he was alive, still), they had been both warm, especially himself. Naruto was that kind of people that worked like an oven and were extremely warm to the touch. Gaara was a little more average, but still, human-warm. Nowadays, he only felt warm in weird places at weird times, as if his body couldn't quite manage the internal thermostat accurately and Gaara…

He had to keep Gaara warm himself. Warm like the hot bricks he was removing by hand—they weren't that hot. He'd let them going on in what was left of the fire they had built last night so the potatoes ($0.53 the kilo) would be done, then started peeling them. He wasn't very good at it, as they were quite a lot hotter than the bricks and a pocket knife wasn't the best tool to peel the thin peel off… and it would be so much easier to just do it beforehand and wrap then in tinfoil, but at $7 the roll, it entered on the red zone of 'do you think we are Rockefeller?' type of expenses. It was sadly a lot cheaper to buy more potatoes than in what to wrap it.

'Potatoes.' He answered distractedly as he finished the three steaming root veggies and cleaned what little dirt and ashes had left stuck on them, then grabbed a wet rug and cleaned them and laid them down on a bowl, bringing it closer along with another crumpled paper bag, McDonalds was a place that he both hated and loved nowadays. Hated it because he didn't remember the last time either of them had had meat of any kind, shape or flavor, much less their delicious, anything-but-meat patties, and sometimes he had this psychedelic dream where the pearly gates turned out to be giant, golden 'M' shaped ones and then he felt like the biggest heretic in the world, and like eating those skinny patty's raw. Om nom nom nom-

Torturous smell and sight aside, McDonalds was a great place to score much needed freebies, like napkins (which meant they didn't have to waste on buying toilet paper, tissues, etc), unfinished soft drinks (if you just stood there people freaking *gave* them to you) and a miscellaneous and heavenly amount of cheap dressing for everything. When your variation of a diet consisted on five or three things you constantly rotated so you would at least feel like if you were eating something different, mustard, ketchup and mayonnaise were a Godsend, and let's not even get started on the magical rock that made everything better, also known as salt. And other such wonders a as prepackaged oil and vinegar and—yeah. Love-hate relationship.

'Gaara, change those clothes,' he scowled lightly at the other reaching with a hand to brush some stay droplets from the older boy's smooth brow, a faint trickle of fear crawling up his spine at the fact Gaara was warm there. So what? Gaara always got a little warm there at night… he was just tired. 'If it's still raining by tomorrow, I'll make rice.' He said thoughtfully, hearing thunder boom somewhere way over their heads. Rice soup, maybe. Something that would be a little more nutritious and warming. They still had some leftover rice, didn't they…?

'In a moment.' answered the redhead, reaching for one of the potatoes and wincing a little at temperature, but not letting go 'I'm hungry.' His fingers stung when he bit with them through the dull blob, making it fall apart into small parts and smearing the hottest insides of a vegetable over his thumb. But his stomach was so impatient at this moment he could care less. And besides that, it was still warmth, right? Even if it made his fingers burn and blister (like if his hands was not covered in hard skin from what he did in life).

He mused a bit over the floating puffs of visible heat while sucking on his thumb greedily. Salt or ketchup? Maybe vinegar this time? 'What do you want to use?' he asked, knowing, that if he used one thing, it was possible it wouldn't last for the second person to use it too. He didn't want to take anything that Naruto would want to take, even if it were such small things. It was all comfort he could provide now. Well, maybe there was a little more, but...

Rice. The blond mentioned rice. A hot water with rice and bits of potatoes would be good. Body warming, almost like a tea they drank twice a week and hot water they drank any other day (not that they couldn't afford the cheapest packs of tea, but it tasted so awful that Gaara insisted on buying the mark which actually tasted like a real thing, even if they could drink it from time to time if they wanted to make it last). Nice indeed. Had they got any rice left?...

He looked at the blond, still wondering which dressing use and licked his thumb again, just in case if it wasn't cleaned clearly before. 'We have rice?'

Naruto frowned more and pressed against the redhead's side, their backs against the heater. 'You'll get sick if you don't get warm.' And really, their economy was strained as it was. They were making it with anywhere between $15 and $20 a week, and that was with just the barest of necessities. Medicine was a very expensive necessity.

Bus tickets to the next city could cost anywhere between $100 and $200 each, and that if they bought them in advance… He didn't want to think about the price of them if bought just before leaving. Hitchhiking was the alternative, and always a touchy subject, because even if they didn't get lost, abducted, raped or murdered by psychos, the fact that they were two young kids walking alone in the middle of nowhere remained, and if by chance a police officer passed, they would be caught.

'I don't remember.' He tried not to look at their stock much… He firmly believed it was bad luck to obsess over things anyplace besides his own brain, but an inventory would have to happen soon. "If we don't, I'll buy some.'

'I'm warm already.' said Gaara and laid his hand on the blond's cheek 'See? Just the right temperature.' He smiled a little, letting his palm lean there a little more as he stroked it like if he were petting a cat. He wasn't sure if that was the way you showed affection to those who needed it, but he surely wanted to do it. 'Stop worrying so much' over me 'I'm never gonna get sick' cuz your worried face is what would make the world worse. And you should smile Naruto. A lot.

And if the rain hadn't killed him already even when he slept in the open, then it surely wasn't going to do it now. He was older and thus, stronger of the two, right? Right. Jumping Jack jumped to the agreement in a sizzling twist. Gaara looked at the packets of McDonald's gifts. A little too little for both of them. Ah well.

'I'm not gonna use the dressing this time.' he said out loud, like if he was talking to himself, when he, of course, wasn't. But if it worked for Naruto then it worked for him. He bit the small part of the vegetable. Warm. And dull. Beggars, not choosers. This was another life. No complaints were spoken. He took another bite. 'You're not eating?' he said, pointing at the remaining vegetables with his chin 'Eat while it's hot.'

He let the comment on rice slide as he counted every penny he remembered they got. A little too little to buy anything like that. Unless Naruto was having some savings he didn't know about. 'Rice is getting expensive nowadays.' he said carefully. The rain was growing bigger. And so were the thunders. God forbid they hit the electricity near their house...

'I`no`wnt the dressing.' he muttered, pouting a bit at the other's words and letting himself be petted. He probably was too old to allow himself to be coddled like a little kid… but he couldn't help liking it. He cuddled closer to the other, not bothering to make it look like an accident. 'Yeah… If pasta's cheaper, I'll get that instead.' He politically answered. Rice might be getting more expensive, but it still was once of the most filling meals and within range of affordance. And he did have some money saved up… about $7 he'd made opening doors for overburden ladies and exchanging papers and glass bottles at the junkyard. He'd have more if they were on a bigger place, but smallish communities such as this one were responsible with their trash.

Maybe if he looked through the newspapers for more coupons…. But the ones he had found would only be valid next week, and they were on a Tuesday. 'Yeah, yeah, I'm eating, mom.' Some rummaging through the bad and he came with one of the random packages of mayonnaise, checking the expiration date before applying a healthy dose of it to the potato and started eating the warm food. Actually, pasta wouldn't be that bad… He could boil some water, put what remained of his ramen-flavor packs, crumble the pasta in tiny bits and that would be sorta soup-ish.

'Pasta sounds good.' the redhead muttered and also cuddled closer, covering the blond with his arms, so he could still see his food in front of him. As well as did Naruto. 'I haven't eaten pasta since...' He bit his tongue. Things like those were forbidden in his language. Not that he couldn't speak about it - it was rather the fact he decided not to. Pretending you weren't poor didn't make you richer, but saying it out loud could make everything look even worse. Naruto was warm.

The redhead laid his chin on the top of the blond's head and bit another piece of a potato. Dullness. And yet, they vanished so quickly he couldn't even complain it grew in his mouth and stopped at his throat. 'Tomorrow's work.' he whispered 'And weather is really bad.'

...stay home, Naruto? Please, Naruto, stay home? He could never bring himself to say such simple things. Stay home Naruto, I will work, I will bring the money, I will make sure you won't get cold or wet or hungry or abused or screamed at or... stay home, but stay close, I don't want to lose you from sight, I don't want stop seeing you're there. Be safe. He clattered with his teeth the want, but instead, he just grabbed the blond and laid his head on his shoulder. Stay...

'S...' _Stay..._ 'Should we buy the pasta on our way home or would you like to do this on lunch break?' ...so much for trying.

The younger boy said nothing at being pulled so close, cheeks reddening lightly at how warm the action made him feel. Everyone thought Gaara to be some kind of monster, Gaara himself included, and sometimes they were right, but the red-haired teen had never done anything harmful to him. Gaara was so very kind, so thoughtful to him…. Sometimes he got scared of it. Because he didn't know what would he do if someday Gaara were to disappear. Not because he didn't know how to fend for himself, or because he needed to be protected… just because Gaara, for some crazy reason he couldn't discern cared for him, and he was the only person who ever had.

'Yeah.' he answered, just as quietly. '…you should stay home. I can go work in your place.' That was one of the things he hated the most about the arrangements. No matter what he did, no matter how much he wanted otherwise, he didn't look his age, he looked younger. While Gaara could almost get away with getting the odd job (the horribly underpaid jobs), no one wanted to hire help from someone that still almost looked like if he belonged in elementary school. The guy that Gaara was working for currently was either aware of how much did they need the money, or just sleazy enough to see an opportunity and he had allowed Naruto to tag along and do some of simpler chores… but he also got paid accordingly, and just about five times. He had only made $15 out of it.

He could do Gaara's share of work, though, but the idiot and Gaara hadn't wanted him to… Either way, Gaara needed a break. He worked too much. If he'd only let him cover for him a single day, he wouldn't feel so anxious, so…so useless. Such a burden. "…I'll get it before going to pick you up.'

Gaara smiled lightly into the shoulder, amused by the words he meant to say himself. Sometimes they worked like telepathical twins - one thing said by one could be told by another without even looking into the eye. Sounded like soul mates or something nearly as extravagant like that.

'No, you can't.' he murmured, feeling how his insides tightened with thankfulness, wanting to hold the blond close like a lost puppy or kitty, but he knew he couldn't do that. Things like those were not reserved for guys to do. Instead he just slowly turned his head on the other side, while still touching with his forehead to the shoulder and insignificantly brushed his lips into the material. Invisible thanks, almost not visible even for him. 'I can pick it up earlier, just so you know. I have one unused lunch break.'

Just in case something's happened. If he had to rush for help or to Naruto in sudden need. It was all he got from Gato when it came to his wants and wishes. Other than that, he was just a replaceable minor. So no calling in sick, no failures, no screw ups. It was pretty dangerous for what he was doing (working on heights with heavy and sharp tools), but he knew he had no other choice - he didn't attend school like any normal kid and there was not many choices left for him. Unless he wanted to play a prostitute in a gay bar, but that was out of question.

First: because that would mean Naruto would have to stay close and he could be easily snatched by some drunken rapists and he wouldn't be able to protect him from everything and second: he had some pride, dammit. Like every poor person. Though his pride meant nothing when it came to keeping what he had. Because he had a little. And that was everything he could ever have so he was ready to fight for it till the first blood. And then some more.

'And you should use that to rest.' The younger boy said, a little stressed. Then smeared more mayonnaise on the potato and bit into it, just out of need to do something Why do you care for me, Gaara? Why are you trying to protect me? Those were the kind of things Naruto wondered, the things that ate at his mind… the things he feared these days, instead of his father's steps coming closer and his whispered words. Because he never dared ask them, too scared realize this was some huge misunderstanding, too scared to hope for it to be what he wanted—

Ah… why did he have to want such strange things? Gaara was so kind to him. That should be enough. Asking would only make things worse… might give something away. He leaned back a bit, unconsciously pulling himself closer. "I can do it. I don't do much during the day.'

Mostly, he just ran around. He ran all over this town looking for things he could use, that he could sell, that he could somehow magically turn into another way to lessen their meager expanses. He walked into McDonald's as if he were looking for someone and when the security guard wasn't looking, snatched the dressings for their foods, he looked in trash for paper and glass and metal that he could sell, and when nothing else worked, he begged for some coins, even though that was so humiliating, something so terrible to do, even though he hated it.

He hadn't in a while, though. One day, a nice man had given him a few bucks instead of just coins. The next day he had gone to the same spot only to find a police man looking around and he had run back to the park and climbed a tree (they hadn't found the house until a few nights later) and stayed there until it was time to pick Gaara from work. He hadn't told him about it, either. Gaara would want to leave, and there weren't any more towns for a while, just desert. And scary as it was to be taken away, he knew Gaara already wanted to save the money and go hitchhiking. And he knew how dangerous that was, so he had kept quiet. he hadn't seen that police man again, and he hadn't gone to that area any more since then.

Gaara's hold tightened, while he sat still, unmoving. Naruto was warm and lively, his heartbeat ran through his skin like a sign of miracle. Maybe those were big words and he was pathetic for thinking them just because this body curled close, but he couldn't help but being thankful for fate for having it.

'I'm not that tired.' he murmured, feeling how the taste of dull potato melted against his teeth and left the usual, not really nice taste. He desperately wanted to buy toothbrushes and toothpaste. Dentists were too much when it came to bills. But for that he couldn't rest in his work. Every minute he was not doing anything, he was not paid. The role of an illegal job.

He opened his eyes slowly. The heater was warming his back pretty nicely so now he started feeling a little too warm there, while his hands and feet stayed anxiously cold. But it was more than all right. He could just sit like that for the rest of the night. If he got a hold on him, he was safe... 'Just don't run into any troubles.' he muttered 'We don't need that.' Because really, even if it was three months now, you could never be sure with the police. Never.

Naruto made a vaguely agreeing sound, deciding not to comment on the fact he could tell perfectly well just how tired the other was. Discussing it would take him nowhere and probably delay Gaara's bedtime some good twenty minutes. He decided to take care of what the other was eating. Because unless he chased him around, Gaara either didn't eat or messed up what was on his plate.

'Ghaa, does that thing even have salt?' How could the other eat something so dull, he would never know. He opened a ranch salad topping and smeared some on top of that remained of the redhead' dinner, adding some salt to the mix. 'I know it's not much, but don't make it torture.'

Gaara stirred. 'Not hungry anymore.' he murmured, the hide his head even more into Naruto's back. 'Eat it.' To tell the truth, he didn't eat much for the hunger he felt, but his tiredness was taking a toll on him and he didn't feel like surrendering to his stomach anymore. Sure, it felt empty, but it felt like that all the time. He was used to it. And besides that, Naruto was not even fully grown, he needed it more than him, who was now fully in his growth spurt. He yawned into the shirt and closed his eyes. Only a little nap... before he would go wash himself or to bed or something... only a little...

'Gaara, I haven't even finished my own, and there's another one for us.' He squirmed in the other's grip. Nothing happened. "Eat or I'm not eating anymore either!' Of course Gaara was hungry. He worked too much and ate too little.

'Mmmh...' Gaara frowned, then stirred a little, nuzzling the back of Naruto like a pillow 'Not now... later... eat it...' The blond really should've known that he was too predictable to sabotage him and he was too agreeable to not fall for it. He stirred again, knowing he probably should've moved and start preparing for bed, but... It was soft and cushy and he liked it in there so... 'Don't move so much.'

Naruto hesitated a moment, then moved more and turned to stare at the older boy. 'Gaara... please.'

Gaara looked into the serious eyes on a pouty face of a little child and sighed tiredly. The blond really could be stubborn like a horse sometimes. Then he smiled. 'Don't do that or girls won't like you.' he said, ruffling his hair and letting go of him. 'And you need more food than I do, I could go without it for much longer than you for I am older. Don't complain, that's how things work.' Then he got up and looked out of the window. It really rained hard, he didn't feel like going to communal baths in such heavy weather. But he disliked the feeling of dirt sticking to his skin. He looked at his jacket.

Nope. Still wet. They really needed to buy an umbrella. And a coat, maybe? Good boots would be good too. So many things to buy. The redhead turned around and sat on the verge of the doormat again. No, going out today was a bad idea. Maybe he could delay the bath on the morning... it's not like they had occasions to wash themselves all the times.  
Naruto closed his eyes as the other touched his hair, biting back a remark on regards of the fact Gaara was just a few months older that he himself was, and that it wasn't his fault he looked this childish. He blushed lightly at the comment, his chest feeling suddenly tight and heavy. Girls… he had nothing against them, but he wouldn't care if they liked him or not. If only…. "I'm not eating anymore, then.' He said stubbornly, leaving his own share in the plate and pulling his kneed up to his chest, laying his head on them.

'You need to eat, Naruto.' said Gaara, then he kneeled to his side and gave him his plate 'Please. Don't make me worried more than I already am.' He ruffled the blond hair again, then made a stroke with circling motions along the back. He really treated him like a puppy. 'I'll eat more next time.'

'No.' the younger boy didn`t move from his position. Gaara always tried to do this, and it never worked. he honestly didn`t know why the redhead bothered. He wasn't going to eat unless Gaara did, and that was final.

'Naruto.' The redhead looked at his plate, then his expression changed into sorrowful 'You don't really want to waste it, do you.' 'The waste' was something so forbidden and so unknown in their language they practically forgot it existed. Nothing was good for wasting. The pan was ate to the last crumb, the water drank to the last drop, the cloth wore till it fell apart in hands and so on. 'Because if you're not eating it, it will go bad in the night.'

Naruto didn`t answer and didn`t look up.

Gaara waited for a heartbeat to pass, breathing through his nose like a light-struck animal. Then he slumped and sat down, messing with the plate. 'All right, I will eat it. But you will eat the third.'

'Share it,' came the blond's voice, muffled through the face pressed against his knees.

Now Naruto was acting like a big child. There was no use in arguing anymore and Gaara knew that. He ate slowly the salty bits. Tasted better. 'You get the bigger half.'

Naruto smiled against his knees, then turned around and wrapped his arms around the older boy, hugging him as tight as he could. Gaara was stubborn and overprotective and plain silly at times, but Naruto loved… cared for him like he didn't for any other person in the world. And if he could give just a little back to the other, even if it was just this tiny bit… he'd be so happy, then.

Gaara smiled into the mouthful of food he got himself into and lowered the plate so he could grab one of the blond's hands and squeeze it. One day he will be able to feed them both till they'd puke. He was sure of it.


	2. II

At the beginning he thought the rain had woke him up. It had dimmed a bit, but thunder boomed every now and then… even if it was…what? Three, four in the morning? Gaara wouldn't have to go to work for another three hours still… Gaara.

Naruto woke up a little more, taking into his surroundings and noticing the older boy was wrapped around him, his face pressed against his shirt. That wasn't so rare, they always slept huddled together for warmth and comfort, but the redhead seemed to move closer to him every few seconds and his breathing was a bit ragged.

He straightened a bit on their make shift bed, which just an assortment of moth-eaten couch pillows they had found and their own backpacks for pillows, with their only blanket and Naruto`s jacket on top for more warmth. Gaara made a soft noise and pressed his forehead against his chest. It felt warm, even through the thin shirt he was wearing. His hand extended, touching the mussed red tresses. They were sweaty.

'Gaara? Wake up.' he said, reaching for the other's bony shoulder and shaking a bit.

'Nnno... Kankuro, wait...' the redhead muttered through his teeth, then he let them clatter as he breathed through his mouth. 'Wait, we will be back, wait...'

Then, just like that, he stopped shivering and opened his eyes. A dream?

A dream. Naruto has woken him up. Too bad. He felt like if his eyes were full of cozy wool while his head felt heavy and much too warm. And his feet were ice cubes. He couldn't feel his toes anymore.

Now that sounded bad.

'What is it?' he murmured, then rolled off the blond to let his head fall on the bag and blink a few times. His eyes hurt him like if they were not watered enough. And his mouth felt too dry. Yes, he really worked too much. That must've been it. But it should've go away if he lied a bit more... 'It's time to go to work?'

'No, you still have a few hours… You were having a nightmare?' He touched the other a bit more, his hand sliding through the smooth cheek, frowning at the heat he felt there. He leaned down, pressing their foreheads together. 'I think you have a fever.'

Gaara had looked a little paler than usual yesterday… Sitting up, he adjusted the blankets around the older boy and reached for the canteen next to them, serving some water on a cup and passing it to Gaara. It was safe to drink, Naruto only ever used water he had previously boiled for drinking. He was terrified of either of them getting sick. 'Are you okay?

'...I don't remember.'

No, not true. He remembered very well. And no, not a nightmare. More like a rememberal of his previous life... When the war broke down, their father has been one of the first to fall under the massive and surprising attacks. He always had bad luck and it stayed like that until the end. When hell broke loose, three of them, he and his siblings - older brother and sister, decided to run away from the town. Every city that got attacked, usually was hammered down with biologic bombs which meant horrible diseases. So it was the best choice to evacuate.

The problem was that they were not the only ones to get that idea. They got through the fish market somehow, linking their hands and not letting go even if people around them were threatening to break bones in their arms if they didn't. But if the place was beginning of a mad river, the train station was a whirlpool of insane. They had to kick through the people and walk on them to actually see the train, not to mention getting to them. Somehow his older sister managed to get into that first, holding onto some strange boy with earrings, which lead to them being forced in after her, as they did not let go of each other. But just when they thought they were safe, some old lady started panicking.

'Here's the sick man!' she screamed, pointing at Kankuro, whose face was all smeared in what was left of his kabuki make up (he was in the middle of changing when the alarm struck them) 'He has a disease! He is already sick!' And even if they did not want it and protested against it and held onto him, nothing could be done against panicking mass of people. Kankuro was thrown out from the already moving train.

He remembered looking through the broken roses of the window's glass, seeing the black figure on the station, hearing screaming of his sister and he screamed they will be back, for him to wait, for him to be there, for them... And they never met him again. The redhead opened his eyes as the blond touched his foreheads together. No, not a fever. He couldn't have a fever now. He was just tired. 'Yeah, pretty much. Just a bad dream.' he said, then gulped down the water which felt so good and yet so bad against his throat. It didn't help him lower the temperature. Sleep... he only wanted to sleep...

'Yes, I'm all right,' he said again, then took a deep breath. 'It's just an after effect of eating too much. Go to sleep.' He really couldn't think of any other excuse, even if it sounded so lame he couldn't believe he said that. He licked his lips and breathed again. His mouth were becoming dry again. So fast.

'Y-yeah. More.' he said, then took a cup and drank, slower this time, wetting his throat properly. His eyes glazed over as he felt the gentle caressing of his scalp and looked at Naruto again. Who knew where Kankuro was. It was possible (just possible - not the confirmed truth or anything like that) that he caught a disease and...

Or maybe he got out of the town some other way. He was always good at sneaking out. He looked at the blond. The kid looked seriously worried now and too concentrated on his face. He was all he had now and all he was left with. He couldn't lose him too. And not only loose. His hand slowly descended from under the covers and stroked the blond hair in a gentle manner as he pushed the blond onto his chest and got the cup down the bed. He couldn't drink all in one go, he had to have something for later.

'Sleep I said.' he muttered and closed his eyes. They still hurt him, but watered throat seemed to ease a little in his breathing. Tiresome thing. He was not getting sick. It would worry the blond bug too much. He was not.

Naruto wanted to protest, but he didn't want to stir the redhead even more… Gaara needed all the rest in the world anyway. Three more hours wasn't enough, but it was all he got, and a discussion wouldn't do anything bust waste the time. He didn't know what Gaara had been dreaming and he didn't know why he had looked at him like that, but it worried him. "Please tell me if you are not feeling good.' He said quietly, moving closer to the other so he could pull the blankets tighter to him.

'I'm all right.' The redhead was not under biological attack, was not put into the cold winter wind, was not eating forbidden food. So he couldn't be feeling unwell. But just in case... in case if... He pushed Naruto gently off him and curled with his back to him, facing the wall. Just IF (of course not, but IF) it would be better for not to have two of them on the same railway. 'Too close.' he muttered, trying to sound annoyed, while he actually missed the closeness. 'Night.'

He missed the hurt look that crossed the blonds face at the action, but the younger boy wouldn`t be so easily brushed away. He moved closer again, gluing himself to the other`s back and wrapped his arms around Gaara`s waist, burying his face on the other`s back and nuzzling it a little. 'Good night.'

'Too close.' said Gaara again, trying to move the blond away with one hand, but it seemed to be in vain as the kid has glued himself to his back like if he was drowning. 'Naruto...' The blond stayed in place. Gaara gave up. Well, he wasn't sick anyway, so there was nothing to worry about, right? Right? The next dream he had was imageless but let him know it was not as good as he wanted it to be. Not right.

#+#+#+#

'You are sick.'

It wasn't a question. When they woke up, Gaara still was feverish, but he had brushed off the younger boy's concern and gone to work anyway. Naruto had barely to drink the instant milk sachet that he usually got from that nice office lady who always seemed to buy too many groceries and seemed to like his help carrying the bags. It didn't really taste like milk did, and it was fat-free, because she snatched them from her work and always had a small handful for Naruto when she saw him, but at least it was more than plain warm water and it tasted good with the sugar he got from McDonalds.

Naruto usually reserved them for bad, rainy days for breakfast, but even if it was just drizzling, he had wordlessly dumped the contents of the package on the redhead's cup and threatened Gaara with letting him in charge of cooking if he didn't drink it. Then he'd walked Gaara to work and told him he'd be there with his lunch at the usual time, and that's where Gaara was now. Work. With his bastard of a boss staring at him from under a baseball cap that shielded his face from the rain and stared at him emotionlessly.

At first he tried to ignore him, as usual, and do his best. It was hard though, when his warm head was getting hotter and his dry throat started hacking from the dry air inside. He tried not to cough as the bits of dust got to his nostrils, then tried not to cough when actually his lungs tried to tell him something, but he didn't want to actually listen to them. But it got worse as day got by, At first he almost let go of the heavy packs of cherry wood which was supposed to be used to build a desk for some rich ass in the corporation. Then, in a coughing fit he didn't want to show, he let go of pins and got them around the room, which got one of his co-workers, Zaku, to get wounded in foot.

Then he looked at the wrong part of the schedule as the temperature in his body grew and started blurring his vision and got late for the part of the material he was supposed to move to the backyard. When he got there, the chilly rain that got to him, made him shake uncontrollably as he tried to cut the wood in pieces. When he almost let go of the machine, which was just t h i s close to his toes, it became the last straw.

'Hey you! Redhead!' he heard beside himself. His boss, as usual, wore his sour face and black lenses 'Yes, I'm talking to you!' 'What is it?' he asked, trying to look calm, but his hands still shook and it was impolite to hide them in pockets in front of other people 'Is something wrong?' 'You are wrong. You look like death and act like desperate wanting to get close to it. I don't need such lazy and uncollected things in my corporation. Go home.' Gaara's eyes widened at those words. What? But... It couldn't be!... 'I can work.' he said sternly, though his voice shook for a millisecond 'I can do it better. I will work harder...'

'Don't make me question your hearing boy, or I will fire you.' Gaara's breath came back to his lungs. But if he went home it meant he wouldn't be paid. 'Are you listening to me or not?' The wooden stick hit him across the head, showing that the old man was having a very short span of patience. 'Get the hell outta here!' He complied. But once he reached the door, he was more than down. No work meant no money. No money meant no food, no food meant... And Naruto will be worried.

He grimaced, leaning on the doorframe and coughing a loud, dry cough into his hands. Well, it didn't sound so bad, at least he didn't sound like if he was suffocating dying squeaky pig. But his muscles were already too sore and he was all sweaty from the fever he (as he finally admitted) had, so he opened his jacket and sat near the door, chilling out. Naruto would come in two hours. He could get there by himself, but that was too dangerous. Mostly because the blond could disappear if he hadn't got an eye on him. Everybody in his life were like that.

'At least I will be looking at him nonstop now.' he muttered to himself, smiling. He couldn't do that for long though, his work was a thing that kept them alive. he had to get better and get back. Tomorrow. Or in two days... He coughed again. Yeah, more like two days...


End file.
